


Among the Leaves so Green

by Imogen_Penn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy/Steve 2014 Christmas Fic Exchange, F/M, Fluff, all of the fluff, fluffy fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3089882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogen_Penn/pseuds/Imogen_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy is stuck in Manhatten at Christmas, and Tony Stark's holiday traditions don't exactly stack up. Luckily, Steve Rogers is a pretty traditional guy.</p><p>Written for the 2014 Darcy/Steve Christmas Fic Exchange. Thanks for organizing Carrie!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Among the Leaves so Green

**Author's Note:**

> This ones for you bearholdingashark. Fake trees and caroling. I didn't quite manage to work snow angels in there :) May you and your epic user name have a truly fabulous 2015.

She couldn’t say that she was exactly heartbroken to be stuck in New York for Christmas. Darcy was new enough to the city that the magic of it hadn’t worn off yet. She and Jane had trekked through the snow and the crowds to watch the lighting of the tree and it had sent a little thrill down her spine. She still thought that skating at Rockefeller Centre was fun and she could stare at the Macy’s store windows for hours.

But this was the first Christmas she had ever spent away from her family. Right now her dad would be over pouring rum for eggnog, and her mum would be playing the same three Christmas albums on an endless loop (Boney M, the Beach Boys, and Bing Crosby).

But there was no way she could skip out on Jane, who was tied to a running experiment and couldn’t leave. Thor was off gallivanting around the universe, no doubt doing something very important, but it did leave Jane stuck in her lab surrounded by near strangers over the holidays.

So while she was a bit sad to be missing the Lewis family Christmas, she couldn’t have lived with herself if she had gone. Moving into Stark Tower had been pretty cool, and the people that lived there were way more chill than she would have guessed for being super heroes.

Well, not Tony Stark. Tony Stark was not chill.

But they had only been there a month, and Jane had spent most of that in the lab. Plus, spies and super soldiers weren’t exactly the type to immediately open themselves up to strangers. Going home would have meant leaving Jane all by herself to survive the holidays with the sometimes prickly and always reticent group that lived in the tower.

So, Christmas in Manhattan it was.

She was certainly coping though. Watching Steve and Clint hang lights out on the balcony had been pretty fun, and there was no shortage of cookies and egg nog.

But the moment Tony waltzed into the kitchen and asked the small group assembled there (Darcy, Steve and Natasha) whether they preferred the real looking fake trees or whether they should just go all out and get one of those mid-century modern white trees, she realized exactly how much she was missing her Christmas traditions.

“What?” the exclamation was out of her mouth at an inappropriately loud volume before she could stop herself.

Darcy had been on good behavior since she moved in, both because she was grateful for the free room and board and because she had this pipe dream of maintaining at least some semblance of dignity when the people sitting around the breakfast table included the Black Widow and Captain fucking America.

Every head in the room turned to look at her in an instant.

There was no holding back now.

“A fake tree?” she went on at a more reasonable volume. “You want to put up a _fake_ tree?” she couldn’t quite disguise the disgust in her tone.

She could swear that Steve Rogers was smothering a laugh.

“What’s it to you, Lewis?” Tony asked her, blinking in surprise.

“Well…I mean, it’s your home, so by all means, do what you want…”

She paused.

“But?” prompted Natasha.

“But fake trees are the spawn of Satan and should be melted down into bubbling piles of plastic goo.” She finished.

This time, Steve really did laugh.

Tony threw up his hands in capitulation.

“Fine Lewis, you get a real tree in here and I’ll forgo the fake one.”

“Really?” she couldn’t help but feel a little thrill of glee at winning an argument with Tony Stark. Although to be fair, he really didn’t seem to care much one way or the other.

“Sure,” he said, “It’s not like I’m going to have to clean up all the needles myself.”

As Tony swept off, she basked in the glow of triumph for approximately two seconds before she became very aware that Natasha and Steve were staring at her with an alarming focus. Well, Natasha’s focus was alarming anyways. Being the center of Steve’s attention was…something else entirely.

“So,” said Natasha, “You’ve been holding out on us.”

“Uhhhhh,” Darcy began inelegantly, “Have I?”

“You’re funny,” she said in a tone so humorless that Darcy couldn’t help the half muffled snort of laughter that bubbled up and then promptly clapped a hand over her mouth at Natasha’s raised eyebrow.

“Natasha,” said Steve in a warning tone, “Be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” said Natasha with an angelic grin and what might have been a sort of conspiratorial smirk in Darcy’s direction. “You’re the one who tends to put everyone on their best behavior. Of course, it _is_ important to respect your elders.”

“I do not,” said Steve indignantly. “And I’m not your elder.”

It was the most relaxed and _normal_ anyone in the tower had seemed since she first got here. She was beginning to think that her attempt to be polite and give them time to warm up to her had been entirely the wrong approach.

She tested the theory.

“I have to agree with Steve,” she said carefully, as Steve grinned in triumph, “He sounds _exactly_ like my 13 year old cousin right now.”

“See,” said Natasha with a satisfied nod, “funny.”

“Alright, alright,” said Steve with a grin and a dismissive waive of his hand, “can we address the real issue here?”

“What’s that?” asked Darcy, struggling to keep up with how quickly her environment was changing.

“How are you planning to get a tree big enough for the extravagant ceiling heights of the tower?” he asked.

“You know,” said Darcy, “I hadn’t really got that far yet. I was distracted by a bunch of overly sarcastic super heroes.” She grinned up at him, feeling more confident of her footing every second.

Steve raised an eyebrow at her, but couldn’t disguise the way the corner of his mouth ticked up

“Hey, you guys are the ones who scolded me for holding out.” She quipped.

“We did, didn’t we,” said Natasha, giving her and Steve an appraising look. “I think your best option is going to be to head out of the city.” She looked to Steve, “I’m sure you can come up with some sort of plan, Captain.”

Darcy thought Natasha might have winked at him, but she definitely did not know them well enough to figure out their by-play.

“Oh, I don’t want to drag you guys into this, it was my idea and…”

“Don’t be silly,” cut in Steve, “Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without a real tree. Operation Evergreen commences at 1300 Lewis. And make sure you bundle up!”

+

+

Darcy made her way into the common area with a warm jacket in hand and with a little bit of trepidation. It was quickly becoming clear to her that the Avengers were a lot more fun than she had been giving them credit for, but that didn’t mean she was exactly comfortable with the thought of being stuck in a car with two of them for an hour.

When she saw that Steve was standing there by himself, she began to feel downright nervous.

Finding out that super heroes could also be relaxed and funny made the Black Widow less intimidating, but finding out that Steve Rogers was sweet and sarcastic made her stomach tighten and twist and made her think about the way that suit of his clung to his legs.

So basically, she was probably going to make an intense idiot out of herself.

She steeled her resolve and walked forward.

“Reporting for duty Captain,” she gave him a sloppy salute and a grin.

“Right on time,” he said with a brilliant smile, “you ready to go?”

“Are we waiting for Natasha?” she asked, trying not to sound too anxious.

“She can’t make it,” said Steve shortly. If Darcy didn’t know better, she could swear the tips of his ears were turning red. “You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” she said, not really believing it.

They had been sitting in the borrowed pick-up truck for a good half hour before Darcy realized how far out of the city they were heading. Steve was surprisingly easy to talk to, and so she didn’t really notice when the buildings had given way to trees.

“Steve,” she asked, “are you taking me out into the woods to kill me?”

He laughed, “Hadn’t planned on it, although if you keep switching the radio station, I might.” Darcy dutifully dropped her hand in her lap instead of flicking through the stations again as she had been reaching to do.

“So you know of a secret tree lot out in the wilderness?” she asked.

“Sort of,” said Steve as he pulled over onto the dirt shoulder of the road in the middle of nowhere, “But it’s not exactly a secret.” He jumped out of the truck and pulled a very heavy looking axe out of the back seat.

“I thought you said this was a no murder trip?” Darcy said as she jumped out of the cab.

“You wanted a traditional tree,” said Steve with a grin as he helped her pull on her jacket, “this is my tradition.”

“Is this legal?”

Steve produced a piece of paper from his pocket. “Christmas tree permit,” he said triumphantly, “Lets us cut down a tree on forest land.”

“Of _course_ you got a permit,” said Darcy with a roll of her eyes, “Well, lead on then!”

They started trudging through the thin layer of snow into the woods. The sun was just starting to set, sending starbursts of light through the thick branches of the pines.

“So when you say tradition,” Darcy asked, “do you mean that you used to hike out here in the 30s?”

“Well,” said Steve, “We didn’t have to come out quite this far to get into the woods back then, but every year me and Bucky would trek out with a sled and cut down a tree for his mother and mine.”

Darcy knew full well who Bucky Barnes was. It was an open secret in the tower. After the disintegration of SHIELD, Steve and Sam Wilson had gone off grid for almost three months looking for the Winter Soldier. Finally, after some sort of encounter that had left Steve and Sam bruised and tight lipped, it had become clear that there would be no bringing in the Winter Soldier until he chose to be brought.

She didn’t bring it up though, because he looked happy. And in her experience, brief though it was, Steve didn’t often seem all that happy.

“You walked all the way back to the city dragging two trees on a sled?” she asked, “That seems like a hell of a lot of work for a tradition.”

“Well, to be honest, we didn’t have a lot of space at home, so the trees were pretty small, and half the time Bucky ended up pulling me part of the way home.” He grinned with a faraway look.

“Sounds like a good friend,” said Darcy carefully, purposefully turning to inspect a nearby tree rather than looking at Steve.

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, “the best.”

“What do you think about this one?” said Darcy, not only to change the subject, but also because it was a really nice tree. It must have been a good ten feet tall from where the branches started to the top, thick needles evenly circling a trunk that didn’t look like it would be too much work to chop through.

“Good eye,” said Steve, “that’s a beauty.” He moved beside her to take a closer look. “Is this the one?” he turned to her for approval.

“This is the one,” she said firmly with a smile. She was really beginning to see the appeal of all of the trekking and cold fingers.

“Alright,” Steve set the axe down on the ground and removed the toque he was wearing.

“Aren’t we going to chop it down?” asked Darcy, looking at him in confusion.

“Traditions have to be respected Darcy,” he said with a grin, “We’ve got to properly solemnize the death of this tree.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at him, and he responded with a goofy grin that made her stomach do a little thrilling flip.

“Bucky’s youngest sister always got upset at the thought of the poor tree dying in their apartment away from all its friends. She insisted that we give it a proper funeral.”

Darcy laughed out loud. “Alright, what does a proper tree funeral consist of?” She pulled off her hat, undoubtedly leaving her hair in chaos, but she found she didn’t really care.

“First we each say a few words of thanks,” Steve said, turning to the tree and bowing his head solemnly. “Oh Christmas tree,” he began in a somber tone, “though you give your life, you will know glory in the form of the most expensive lights and decorations Tony Stark can buy.”

“And may you take comfort in the fact that you will probably piss Tony Stark off for weeks as your needles gently fall to the marble floors and somehow never get completely cleaned up.” Darcy added, gratified by a muffled snort from Steve.

“And,” Steve went on, “thanks for being a great excuse to get to know Darcy, who may otherwise have gone on being excruciatingly polite for months.”

“Jerk,” said Darcy with a grin, and then turning back to the tree, “And thanks for being really heavy. I’m going to enjoy watching Steve drag you back to the truck.”

“Done?” asked Steve with a wry grin.

“Done,” she stuck her hat back on her head. “Do we chop now?”

“Yes, we chop now,” said Steve.

He let her take a few swings, but she didn’t make much of a dent. Steve, however, went through the trunk in no more than five strokes of the axe while she watched from what he deemed a safe distance.

The tree fell with a creak and a crash, sending a cloud of fresh snow into the air.

It looked even bigger on the ground.

“You know,” said Darcy, “I was kidding about making you drag it back to the truck by yourself, but I’m not sure I’m going to be much help with this thing.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” said Steve, “but first we have to finish the tree funeral.”

“There’s more?” she asked.

“The funeral dirge,” he said, barely managing a serious expression, “it’s the most important part.”

“I’m a terrible singer,” Darcy said quickly.

“What’s your favorite Christmas carol,” asked Steve, clearly not willing to let her weasel out of it.

She sighed in resignation.

“How about ‘Here we come a wassailing’, nice and traditional for your weird old timey traditions.”

Steve hauled the trunk of the tree off the ground, “grab somewhere near the top,” he ordered.

Steve was clearly carrying most of the weight as Darcy plunged through the needles to get a hand around the trunk.

Then Steve began to trudge slowly back toward the truck. “Here we come a wassailing among the leaves so green,” he began in a credible rendition of the Christmas carol sung slowly and in a minor key. It did, in fact, bear a striking resemblance to a funeral dirge.

Darcy burst out laughing, but joined him as best she could for the rest of it.

By the time they made it back to the truck she was breathless and covered in needles and sap, and she was sure her arms would be aching tomorrow, but that last little reserve of feeling out of place in New York and feeling lonely at Christmas had been complete washed away.

Even though she was sure he didn’t really need it, she climbed into the bed of the truck to help Steve get the tree in place and tie it down.

 She should probably have known that unnecessary exertion was a bad idea. Jumping down out of the back hatch, she slipped on the packed snow at the side of the road and fell headlong into Steve, narrowly avoiding a potentially disastrous face plant.

Unsurprisingly, he steadied her easily.

Somewhat more surprisingly, he didn’t set her to her feet immediately. He was looking at her with a confusing expression. He looked…focused, his hands wrapped warmly around her shoulders, her chest pressed against his. She could see his breath fogging the air as she looked up at him.

She opened her mouth, to say or do what, she could really say, but it seemed to break the moment and he set her back on her feet like it hadn’t even happened.

“Steady there, ace,” he said, his eyes cutting away from her.

The ride home was quiet as Darcy warmed her hands over the truck’s heating vents. She knew perfectly well that there had been a _moment_ back there. A moment that she hadn’t imagined. She was still kind of wrapping her head around the fact that Captain freaking America had looked at her like maybe he wanted to kiss her, and wasn’t yet in a place to consider what it meant and what she should do about it.

Steve kept looking over at her every few minutes but then turning his eyes back to the road without saying anything.

Still, Bing Crosby was playing on the radio and the whole truck was filled with the scent of pine needles. It kind of felt like home.

+

+

Even Tony had to admit that the tree was beautiful. The next day, set in place in the common room at the tower, even without any decorations, the big tree made the whole place feel festive.

It drew everyone out of their rooms or the gym or the lab to admire it and to help string it with lights and ornaments.

Jarvis played Christmas music, and Tony over poured rum and eggnog and ordered people about.

“Pepper, there’s a blank spot up and to your left, stick one of those red and gold balls up there.”

“You know Stark,” said Clint from his perch on a stepladder as he hung ornaments near the top, “there are an awful lot of red and gold balls on this tree. You trying to tell us something?”

“Don’t be crude Clint,” said Natasha as she sorted ornaments out of boxes, “besides, it’s not polite to draw attention to over compensation.”

Darcy and Jane laughed at the expression on Tony’s face as they carefully placed tinsel on the tree.

It was exactly the sort of feeling that Darcy had been missing being away from home for the holidays, which was maybe why she was carefully avoiding Steve. She had no idea how one little weird moment on the side of a highway had sent her spiraling like this. She tried telling herself that it hadn’t meant anything and there was no way that Captain America had a thing for her and she was being silly.

But whatever Captain America thought, Steve Rogers kept finding reasons to move closer to her, to hand her things with a lingering brush of fingers.

So maybe she did know why she was freaking out.

Darcy had a long history of dating losers, relationships where she was clearly in control and that were dead end right from the start. Relationships that were easy to walk away from when they came apart.

But she knew, she _knew_ , at a gut level that there was no way she would be the one walking away from the kind, funny, _incredible_ man who was currently tracking her with his gaze as she moved across the living room.

And that was terrifying.

So she avoided him as best she could.

However, she didn’t really have a polite out when the tree was done and Natasha insisted that, as the ones who had selected and retrieved the tree, she and Steve should place the star on top.

She couldn’t help the heat that rose in her cheeks as Steve’s big hands fell against her hips, holding her steady and making her feel small and precious as she stood at the top of the step ladder and reached up to place the star atop the tree.

She could see perfectly well that Natasha was watching her with a raised eyebrow as she let Steve help her down and then made a hasty retreat to the kitchen for more egg nog.

Oh did she miss the days when she floated through the tower under Natasha’s radar.

She let her head fall against the fridge with a dull thud as she willed the cool stainless steel to draw the blush from her face.

“Darcy? Is everything okay?” Steve concerned voice behind her made her start upright, and she wheeled around to face him.

“Fine!” she said a little too brightly, “it’s just hot in there.”

It was not. She was a lying liar pants.

Steve looked like he knew it but was too polite to point it out.

“I just…” he started carefully, “I can’t help feeling like I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

She let out a breath. She should have expected that the Man with a Plan wasn’t just going to let her slink around avoiding him.

“You did,” she said bluntly.

Steve blinked in surprise. “Oh,” he said, his face falling, “I’m sorry, I’ll just…” he awkwardly gestured towards the door and turned to go.

“Not….” She reached out to stop him, “not in a _bad_ way.” She finally managed.

Steve looked at her curiously for a moment and then said resignedly, “I have no idea what to do with that.”

“Me neither,” said Darcy with a bit of a grin, “but clearly avoiding you wasn’t a good move.”

“I don’t much care for it,” Steve agreed with a cautious quirk of his lips. “I just…I had a lot of fun yesterday.”

“Me too,” she said quickly, taking a step towards him.

“Okay,” said Steve with a broad and relieved smile.

“Okay,” said Darcy, grinning back.

+

+

At the time, it felt like _something_ had been said, but as Darcy looked back on it over the next week, she realized that they hadn’t really said anything at all.

She wasn’t avoiding him anymore, not at all. But Steve had apparently taken the fact the he made her “uncomfortable” quite seriously and was keeping his distance.

He asked her if she’d like to go for a walk through the park, but kept enough distance that their shoulders would never brush. He made sure to leave a clear margin of space between them even as he sat next to her on the couch watching Christmas moves with the others in the living room. He would tease and joke and talk to her about his Christmases growing up in Brooklyn, but he would never flirt or let his gaze linger on her too long.

And frankly, it was driving Darcy crazy.

Apparently, it was also driving Natasha crazy. She could feel her watching them whenever they were together with a growing disgust.

Finally, around 3:00 on Christmas Eve, Natasha blew past her in the hallway, grabbed her by the elbow, and pulled her into her room.

“Sit,” said Natasha, pointing at the couch in front of her.

Darcy sat.

Natasha settled into an overstuffed chair facing her.

“You like Steve,” she said, curling her legs up underneath her.

Darcy blinked.

“Is this…is this your version of ‘girl talk’?” Darcy asked incredulously.

“Something like that,” said Natasha with a sort of terrifying grin, “mostly I find it very difficult to watch idiocy stand in the way of two people being happy.”

Darcy sighed. “Well, you’re not wrong about the idiocy part,” she said. “I fully recognize that we are being stupid, I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Natasha cocked her head curiously, “So you know that Steve likes you?”

“Yes,” said Darcy, “he said as much last week.”

“And he knows that you like him?”

It felt a little bit ridiculous, talking about “liking” Captain America, especially with the Black Widow, but Darcy nodded.

“Then what the hell is your problem?” asked Natasha calmly.

“Well, I told him that he makes me uncomfortable, but in a good way?” Darcy said hesitantly.

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“So he’s been obnoxiously careful not to make you uncomfortable in a good way, because he doesn’t understand that by ‘uncomfortable’ you meant turned on?”

Darcy slumped in her chair, “not exactly,” she said. Natasha gave her a prompting glance. She sighed. “I mean, yes…about the turned on part…but also, he _does_ make me uncomfortable because he’s…well, because he’s _him,_ you know? What do I have to offer him beyond a really convenient passing fling? And I don’t know if I’d survive being dumped by Steve…” she finished miserably.

Natasha was looking at her with a unique mixture of sympathy and exasperation.

“Two things Lewis. First, do you really think that Steve is the passing fling type?”

Darcy shook her head mutely. She hadn’t really thought about it from that angle.

“Secondly, Steve has been not so subtly asking about you and trying to get you involved in things around the tower since he saw you on the second day you were here, cursing a blue streak as you tried to get one of Foster’s machines in position.”

“Oh,” said Darcy with a growing giddiness.

“So,” she said finally in a small voice, “he’s probably pretty serious about it…”

“Yeah,” the _you idiot_ subtext was pretty clear.

Darcy jumped to her feet, “Where…”

“Balcony, last I saw,” said Natasha, with an indulgent grin.

“Natasha,” said Darcy, “Thank…”

Natasha cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Just go, and please put an end to all the awkward sexual tension.”

“Will do!” said Darcy with a grin, and sprinted for the balcony.

She paused at the door. Steve was standing at the railing with a steaming mug in his hand looking out over the snow covered rooftops of Manhattan. He looked up as she slid open the door.

“Hey,” he said with a warm smile and a look of welcome. Darcy wondered now how she could possibly have missed the way his eyes softened when she was around, and the way his focus zeroed in on her like she was the only person in the world.

She couldn’t stifle the broad grin on her face. “Hey,” she responded, “D’you have a minute?”

“Of course,” he said with a quizzical look at her, “you want to go in? You must be cold.”

She walked up to him, plucking his mug from his hand and setting it down. “Keep me warm?” she asked, threading her arms around his waist.

Steve made an odd sort of half pleased half surprised hum and pulled her closer, palms broad and warm against her back.

She pressed her cheek against his chest and let her eyes fall closed.

“Darcy?” Steve asked after a moment.

“When I said you made me uncomfortable,” Darcy cut off his question, face still pressed against him muffling her voice, “I think what I meant was afraid.”

She could feel him tense underneath her.

“Afraid of me?” he asked quietly against her hair.

“Afraid of this,” Darcy answered, giving him a little squeeze. “I mean, I barely know you really, but you’re so…you could be _necessary_ , to me. Really easily. And that make me uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” said Steve, and she felt the tension seep out of his chest. “I know what you mean,” his thumbs started rubbing aimless patterns against her spine, “If it helps, I’m afraid of that too.”

“It does help actually,” she tilted her chin up to look at him. He was looking down at her with something that looked like awe. “I didn’t really know that we were, you know, in the same boat until today.”

“What changed?” he asked, his eyes flickering over her face as if he was trying to memorize it. “I only ask because it seems to have worked out pretty well for me and I’d like to know how to make it happen again,” he smiled at her.

“I could tell you,” she said, “but then I’d have to kill you.”

“Tasha?” asked Steve with a grin.

Darcy nodded.

“Well, she does like to meddle,” Steve said somewhat absently.

The expression on his face reminded Darcy strongly of where this whole thing began, slipping on the snow and realizing that Steve Rogers would like to kiss her, maybe.

Except this time, there was no maybe, and she was sure and certain that whatever this was going to be and whether or not she ended up hurt because of it, it was worth the risk.

She pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Natasha had been right, Steve did tend to put people on their best behavior. But there was nothing well behaved about him now. His hands pressed against her back, drawing her close against his chest. His mouth against hers was confident, sure as he pressed between her parted lips. The straight, sharp line of his teeth against the swell of her lower lip drew a low groan from her, and she could feel his smile against her mouth.

She drew back, the hand that had crept up to the back of his head relaxing as she rolled back down onto her feet.

“Uhhhh,” she said dumbly.

“Yeah,” breathed Steve, looking more comfortable somehow, with color in his cheeks and his hair disheveled. “Was that okay, I mean…I don’t want to make you…”

“I’m very comfortable,” Darcy said immediately.

“So,” said Steve after a moment, “it may not be the usual sort of first date, but I’m hoping you’d like to spend Christmas with me?”

“Dunno,” said Darcy looking up at him guilelessly, “depends on what your plans are.”

“Well I hear Tony Stark throws a hell of a shindig,” said Steve with a grin that was too soft and slow to be all that sarcastic.

“I suppose I could do that,” she said, hiding her smile by dropping her forehead to his chest.

“Hey Darce?”

“Hmmm?” she looked up at him.

“Merry Christmas.”

She smiled. “And here’s to a really awesome new year.”


End file.
